Page 20 of Average Joe

Honestly, I was surprised Harper hadn’t tried to strong-arm me into compliance. Perhaps he was biding his time, or maybe he was only coming around to let me, or more accurately, my father, know he was paying attention, a way to keep my dad in check. Whatever his motives, I played along and gave him the respect he thought he deserved because I was rather fond of my toes.

Joe

“Those are some ugly-ass toes.” I gave Frank a shove. “You should cover those. Seriously.”

He huffed a laugh and looked down at his bare feet planted on the black-and-white checkered floor. “How did you talk me into this?”

“You’ll be singing my praises in a few short minutes,” I assured him.

Ly jetted from the back room, but her steps faltered when she took in the sight of us—two gargantuan men—standing inside her salon. “Hi, Joe.”

“Morning, Ly.” I nodded, then made introductions.

The salon owner was maybe five feet and couldn’t weigh more than eighty pounds. What she lacked in size, she more than made up for in grit.

“You bring me new customer.” Her delicate hand landed on my arm. “Good boy.” Though her accent was heavy, her gratitude was unmistakable.

Ly sized up Frank before giving me a nod and gesturing to the black pleather massage chairs sitting side by side, where blue liquid already churned in the porcelain tubs. “You sit. Be right back.”

Frank shot me a glance, shrugged, then stepped into the water. “Jesus. Fuck,” he hissed. “That shit’s hot.” He dropped his ass to the seat and planted his heels on the edge of the basin.

I followed suit, sinking my feet into the bubbling water and settling into my chair. I rolled my head to the side. “Just give it a second. Relax.”

Ly and Trudy hurried our way, both donning white smocks and blue masks. Trudy stood half an inch taller than Ly but was thinner. Ly’s black hair was cut in a sharp line below her ears, and Trudy wore hers shoulder-length and stick straight. Besides their petite statures, the women shared wise, warm brown eyes with laugh lines at the corners—a beautiful mother/daughter team.

Trudy pulled a remote from the back of Frank’s chair and hit the power button, engaging the magical kneading rollers.

“Dear God,” he groaned. “I need one of these at home.” He lay his head back and closed his eyes.

Yeah. Pedicures were the jam.

But that wasn’t why I’d suckered my friend into joining me for my weekly visit. Across the street from the little strip mall where Emerald Glow Nails resided stood an ungodly bright red building in the middle of a square lot. A privacy screen covered the single service window, and security cameras hung from each corner. The roof was black, the trim too, and above the door hung an enticing neon sign.

Their logo was the silhouette of a busty female form bathing in a large steaming coffee mug.

Dirty Dreamz was famous, not for its excellent service, but for the nearly naked women who served the chain’s mediocre drinks.

There was rarely a lull in vehicles waiting their turn for coffee with a side of flesh. However, on any given day, a rotation of four different cars were parked outside, not against the building, but along the property line shared with a Dairy Queen. To anyone who wasn’t paying attention, they appeared to be customers of the fast-food joint.

But I paid attention.

Not because I gave a shit about the shady coffee franchise, but because the black Cadillac sedan, currently occupying one of those aforementioned spots, belonged to my uncle.

“You see what time the Caddy rolled in this morning?” I asked, nodding across the lot.

Ly shot a quick glance out the window, then focused again on my foot. “He here when I come in. They open early. Four AM. I come in eight thirty.”

“Any new cars?”

She nodded, then lifted my ankle to scrub the bottom of my foot. “A large SUV. Silver. Last week on Tuesday. This week on Friday.”

As I’d suspected, Frank kept his thoughts to himself, but I caught the flare in his eyes when he recognized Larry’s CT6.

My friend waited a good minute before warning, “Don’t go down this road, Joe.”

I ignored him. “Thanks, Ly. I appreciate the info.”

“I got license plate number for new car.” She stood from her tiny stool and headed for the front desk, then rifled through some papers. She came back with a wrinkled grocery store receipt. On the back was a number scribbled in black ink.

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